Facebook

Sunday, December 26, 2010

We decide to take a trip… and “Hitch” tags along


No, this is not the story of how we met Will Smith at the airport…. although I wish it would had been.
My husband had this incredible ‘last minute’ idea of taking a plane to Argentina and surprise my father for his birthday.
Experience tells me that ‘last-minute-anything’ tends to go-south starting from the first minute, but we didn’t listened to our instincts and bought two round trips for the weekend.
My husband’s brother was in NY, so we had lunch with him prior to starting our adventure… arugula and prosciutto crepes were enjoyed over New York tap water.
We headed to the airport, high-spirited and full of excitement for the prospect of becoming the advanced Christmas presents to fifty members of my family (yes, we already covered the extent of my father’s side clan).
Whilst driving, a small bird defecated over my recently washed car, so being the clean freak that I am; I cleaned it with a baby wipe when we arrived.
Immigrations happened without any incident and we decided to peruse some bookstore and find something entertaining to read for the 17-hour trip ahead of us.
 While doing this, I started to feel strangely warm (considering that we were in a -2°C weather) and I removed my sweater and scarf… this brought some itching to my neck and I started scratching nonchalantly until I realized that I was rubbing my scalp… did I had lice? I didn’t think that after 20-year out of primary school the lice would’ve decided to make me theirs again, so a visit to the bathroom settled my curiosity… I definitely didn’t had lice, nor any type of bugs over me, however, I was starting to show some red areas in my stomach and my neck, as well as my whole face.
I assumed this was something related to a temporary itch, so I went out to look for my husband. He saw me and understood that something wasn’t right, so he insisted on going to the pharmacy to get an anti-allergic.
I stayed seated on a coffee shop and my ears began disturbing me, I couldn’t stop scratching them… this added to the fact that now all of my upper body parts were on fire.
I have a high-tolerance to pain and disturbing things… my husband doesn’t like this because I never get sick or complain about being sick, however, when I do have a problem, we usually end up in the E.R.
I called him (because it couldn’t take more than 5 minutes to get some medicine) and as soon as he saw my call, he realized that I was in utter and complete discomfort (I never call him for these things).
He run back and I swallowed four pills immediately, while staring at my wrist watch… the medicine was suppose to be effective ‘within 15 minutes’ and I wanted desperately to feel the ‘instant relief’.
My ears became bigger and my neck was scorching red, as well as my underarms, my back, my stomach, my inner thighs… I couldn’t concentrate hard enough to prevent myself from scratching and that’s when… even though I kept saying that I was A.OK… my husband; who knows something about ‘desperate circumstances calls for desperate measures’, requested the airport doctor.
Not 2 minutes later, I had an EMT with a defibrillator (he thought I was unconscious), two paramedics checking my vitals (they received a distressed called of someone dying on an airport gate), an oxygen mask tide to my face (allergy and asthma don’t mix too well… and I, supposedly, had both) all of our bags strapped to a stretcher and me and my husband, riding over the airport runways in an ambulance headed to the nearest hospital.
Needless to say that when we got home, it was midnight, we were exhausted, I felt renewed after that cortisone IV that reduced the swelling and the itching and the redness and the hives…. we missed our one-time opportunity to visit our family in an over Atlantic adventure, though.
However, we had our adventure … not cross-oceanic, not family related, no barbecue was involved… we spent 4 hours at the hospital, they drugged me until I was white enough to ease their minds that I wasn’t going to die of respiratory failure, we shared an overcrowded E.R. area full of sick people… and most importantly, we learned that ‘last minute’ anything, is not something we’ll be trying again soon.
As for my allergy, if it was the prosciutto, the arugula, the crepes or the bird’s crap… we’re not sure... what I definitely know, is that I’ll not be trying those in the near future.

Monday, December 13, 2010

Feeling under the weather

What does that expression mean?

We’re always under the weather, considering that the climate conditions are reflected in the sky, so all of us wake up every day feeling “under” the weather…. However, stupid people use this expression to express a mood or a feeling, like when you’re sad or going to be sick.
I really can’t put my finger on it.
I feel under the weather all the time… if the day starts like today: cloudy, cold, gloomy… I’ll most sure will feel under the weather… a “pilarsicle” working with the only purpose to be back at my comfy house, warm and toasty.
I’ll have to come up with a different phrase to express my “comfort (or uncomfortable) situation” when I’m coming down with a flu or something… maybe I can say: I’m feeling like the weather… but that will only work if it’s an awful day… the sun wouldn’t replicate my state if he’s too shiny and I’m too ‘grey’. 
I could say: I’m feeling opposite to the weather.. if it’s too sunny for my ‘sick’ state.
That’s it… Like or Opposite.
I think it’s catchy and a bit less moronic that Under.
So today, I’m definitely feeling LIKE the weather… I’m not coming down with the flu, but I’m sleepy and cold, I want to be at my home, cuddling with my pillow and burrowing under the covers.
I’ll love to be feeling OPPOSITE to the weather.
We're definitely UNDER it… but that doesn’t explain to you how I’m feeling at all.
To be more specific, I'm like the weather, wanting to be opposite and definitely under.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Blood makes you sisters… and personality makes you different

My sisters were visiting for Thanksgiving.
My big sister “S” was here for the first time since I moved. Her first visit was ages ago, so her memory needed to be refresh with new sightseeing, lots of pictures and different places to walk through.
My twin sister “D” has been in NY with me for, at least, 4 times since I moved, so for her was more about the time spent together, enjoying her new Kindle acquisition, the cooking-bonding process and so on.
I had to work some days of the week, but I got to spent Thanksgiving holiday with them… me and my non-born-from-me child: the turkey.
We named them after me because of a joke that has been around since my first turkey… my husband’s cousin said that my turkey was the best he had ever tried (I assume because he didn’t want me to feel bad after my first try) and from then on, the turkey and me share my name…. so when my husband asks:
-          Where is “P”?
Someone will answer:
-          In the oven … or in the kitchen
My sisters are two very different persons.
“S” was known for her volatile character when we were younger, however, she outgrew the need to yell at everybody (‘the world against me’ drama) and now she has a nice patience and lack of promptness that is soothing and unnerving at the same time.
“D” is a hurricane… always doing, pushing, moving, talking… she’s not the best listener but can be great to give good advice when needed and she’s one of the most reliable persons that I know.
Both her characters are so different… our characters are sooooo different… that you wouldn’t think we’re related if you’re blindfolded hearing us talk
“S” would be soothing the conversation, avoiding conflict and trying to bury the issue… good intentions but I get exasperated sometimes when I want to yell my throat off and I can’t.
“D” is the opposite, looking for a conflict at the round of every corner… it doesn’t matter if you’re talking about the weather, she’ll probably take it personally for the poor rain that’s being criticized for wetting everything and she’ll be over you like a lion.
Me… I can’t shut up. I need to learn to be polite and choose the moments and the time to be brutally honest, and accept the fact that everybody is not always ready to hear what I have… need… to say.
Needless to say, that blood makes us sisters… we’ll always have each other, for better or for worse, with turkey or not, sunny day or raining men… but our personalities are what defines us.
Separated we're three very disturbed (or not) persons… together, we’re completely and utterly perfect!

Friday, December 10, 2010

Heels and winter… not a good combination


Cold weather is here, and with it, came the snow, the morning dew turn to ice, and my increased inability to walk in heels from my car to the office.
13 steps a day that seems like the longest running track with difficult obstacles, when in reality it’s just the sidewalk, some pavement, and the door… but, the obstacles are the worse: wind, ice and snow.
Heels and me have a long lasting relationship going on… sometimes I decide to leave them and stick with my comfy flats, but since I occupy a responsible position in a company, I cannot show to work dressed as a student, so I try to befriend my shoes and accept their high heels and their pointy toes.
Designers never thought on women’s feet when they came up with the idea of heels… less in winter and the added difficulty to wear them… because if they would have had, round toes and flat shoes will be the latest fashion and everyone will be wearing them, specially on this time of the year.
But, we’re stuck with boots that are too tight and too high for my flat, square feet, and the matter that I don’t have an arch, doesn’t help the matter.
So every morning, I turn off my car, switch my tennis shoes for my high heel boots and try to walk, without falling on my butt in a spectacular fashion in front of every co-worker… most of the times I manage it by doing the process really slowly, like a 1-year-old kid that’s just learning to walk.
This strategy works to perfection, and when it doesn’t, I just pray that my pants aren’t damaged after my stumble, or that my heels are still intact, and then… I consider my body parts:
-          Ankles… check, no broken bones there
-          Butt… sore, but intact
-          Hands… no scratches
-          Shame… growing by the minute
Is on this days were I pray for winter to be over and summer to come back with its scorching hot days… too bad that the nightmare is barely starting.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Innovation… anyone?

This was the header of the newspaper this morning… I read it walking my way to the elevator on our neighbour’s front door (my only true ‘news reading’ is a 3 seconds stop to know if the world is coming to an end… or not… mostly not).
Bearing in mind the fact that I consider myself a most boring person, with a square type personality, set to become an hermit before turning fifty, reading my books and drinking coffee.. The newspaper’s header touch my self-esteem and I decided to write a bit about true innovation… the one that happens every day, even though it doesn’t get notice by the whole population of the world, mainly my husband, my dog and me.
Cooking… innovative cuisine is something that you’ve to experiment by default when moving to a new country were ‘calabaza’ is “butternut squash” or “pumpkin”… or ‘semillas de cajuil’ is “cashews… or ‘tomillo’ is “thyme”… just by going to the grocery store you get confuse by all the different names and even though you have your grandma’s recipe with you to get everything for that chicken casserole, parsley gets confused with basil, and so on… at the end, you have what it looks like a chicken casserole but smells like an Indian dish… all spiced up and smelling strong.
Drinking… innovative drinking comes with the territory when living abroad. One always has to try new brands, flavours, drinks. I’m a weak drinker, so other than a different juice flavour, I don’t try new stuffs, however, my husband and I made a trip to the vineyards and came back addicted to ‘wine-a-rita’… so I have to consider that as an innovation in my life.
Dressing… innovative dress codes are a given when you live in one of the Fashion capitals of the world… I would have never consider to use leggings before (my big butt and all), but here, leggings are a fashion statement that improves your appearance while making you look sleek and cool.
Pet Care… yes, as you know, I have a dog and he’s also been innovating on his diet (orange treats that taste like pork, or green treats that make your mouth smell like grass) and on his care routine… with special “play days” with his mates from the vet’s office or grooming sessions to improve his looks.
Technology… the most important innovation of this generation.
Since I’ve moved to NY I’ve acquired a razor for sweaters, a nail trimmer for dogs, a ultra light, ultra thin, ultra fast hair dryer, an iPad (for my hubby), 4 iPhones (we change them every year) and an egg cooker that can do amazing omelettes, eggs Benedict and poached eggs in less than 3 minutes.
So… to the New York Times editor that choose that header to come out on the Wednesday edition… please revise your choices for a selling front cover and try to asses more important matters, like traffic jams on the Long Island Express way to improve my driving time to work, or the subway on the 2nd avenue, so my husband doesn’t have to ride the subway like in a sardines can every afternoon, or even grocery prices, so I don’t have to travel 40 miles to do my grocery shopping in ShopRite at a reasonable price.

Innovation… everyone? Duh!